1349 


I'  II.  E  J  -S 


ALICE  HOLMS 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


*t 


POEMS. 


POEMS 


BY 


ALICE     HOLMES. 


NEW-YORK : 

JOHN  F.  TROW,  PRINTER,  49  &  51  ANN-STREET. 
1849. 


PS 


THESE    POEMS 

ARE     RESPECTFULLY      DEDICATED 
TO   THE 

MANAGERS 

OF   THE 

Snstituttnn 

FOR    THE    BLIND. 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  collection  of  Poems  is  a  simple  offering  to 
friendship,  claiming  nothing  on  the  score  of  literary  or 
poetic  merit,  and  owing  its  appearance  before  the  public 
solely  on  the  one  hand  to  the  solicitations  of  friends,  whose 
kindly  feelings  have  rendered  them  a  little  blind  to  its  im 
perfections,  and  on  the  other  to  the  sincere  desire  of  the 
writer,  to  render  some  small  return  to  those  who  have  done 
much  by  word  and  by  deed,  to  dispel  the  gloom  that  oft  hangs 
with  a  heavier  pall  upon  the  heart,  than  even  the  veiled 
eye  that  knows  no  sunshine  can  feel ;  and  who  have 
smoothed  that  rugged  path  where  no  light  guides  the 
weary  feet. 

Perhaps  the  only  interest  attached  to  the  Poems,  con 
sists  in  the  peculiar  circumstances  in  the  life  of  the  writer. 
She  is  blind: 

"  Not  to  her  returns        * 
Day,  or  the  sweet  approach  of  even  or  morn, 
Or  sight  of  vernal  bloom,  or  summer's  rose, 
Or  flocks,  or  herds,  or  human  face  divine  ; 
But  clouds  instead,  and  ever-during  dark 

602195 

IffiEABI 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

Surrounds  her,  from  the  cheerful  ways  of  men 
Cut  off,  and  for  the  book  of  knowledge  fair 
Presented  with  a  universal  blank 
Of  nature's  works." 

To  those  who  sympathize  with  the  stricken,  and  do  not 
despise  the  humble  efforts  of  a  spirit  seeking  to  beguile  the 
hours  of  its  own  solitude, 

"As  the  wakeful  bird 

Sings  darkling,  and  in  shadiest  covert  hid, 
Tunes  her  nocturnal  note," 

the  following  brief  narrative  may  not  be  unacceptable. 

ALICE  HOLMES,  the  author  of  this  little  volume,  was 
born  in  the  County  of  Norfolk,  England,  in  February  of 
the  year  1821.  Her  father,  a  worthy  mechanic,  supported 
a  growing  family  by  his  daily  industry,  until,  moved  by 
the  spirit  of  emigration,  and  the  hopes  of  improving  his 
fortunes  in  the  new  world,  in  April  of  the  year  1830,  he 
embarked  with  his  family  and  worldly  goods  for  the  United 
States. 

To  the  dreariness  of  a  long  and  weary  voyage,  was 
added  the  horrors  of  disease, — the  small-pox  "made  its  ap 
pearance  among  the  passengers,  and  among  its  victims, 
though  not  of  those  who  were  consigned  to  the  deep,  was 
the  little  Alice,  then  in  her  ninth  year. 

On  the  19th  of  June  following,  the  emigrant  ship  ar 
rived  off  quarantine  in  the  bay  of  New- York.  The  fell 
disease  was  still  upon  Alice,  but  the  New  World,  the  land 


PREFACE.  ix 

of  promise,  of  which  she  had  heard  so  oft  iu  the  long 
evenings  by  their  English  fireside,  and  which  had  filled  all 
their  thoughts  and  all  their  hopes,  and  which  now  broke 
first  upon  her  vision,  leff  an  abiding  image  of  beauty, — it 
was  her  first  and  last  view  of  the  sunlight  on  this  side 
the  water. 

She  was  taken  to  the  Hospital,  with  little  hope  of  re 
covery,  and  when  medical  skill  had  restored  the  health  of 
the  body  it  was  found  that  she  was  blind. 

Her  parents  then  removed  to  Jersey  City,  where  Alice 
now  dwells. 

In  January  of  the  year  1837,  through  the  munificence 
of  a  gentleman  of  Jersey  City,  Alice  became  an  inmate 
of  the  "New- York  Institution  for  the  Blind)"  the  kind 
friend  above  alluded  to  defraying  the  costs  of  her  tuition. 
Subsequently,  in  1838,  the  Legislature  of  New  Jersey  made 
an  annual  appropriation  for  the  benefit  of  a  limited  num 
ber  of  pupils,  who  should  wish  to  enter  the  New-York  In- 
tatution,  there  being  no  asylum  for  the  blind  in  the  State 
of  New  Jersey.  Alice  was  thus  enabled  to  remain  five 
years  longer  as  a  State  pupil,  at  her  new  home,  where  she. 
gained  valuable  friends,  and  a  competent  knowledge  of  all 
the  branches  of  an  English  education  there  taught. 

Of  the  kindness  and  treasured  instructions  of  those  con 
nected  with  and  having  charge  of  the  Institution,  she  de 
sires  to  express  her  grateful  remembrance. 

She  cannot  omit  kindly  mention  of  Silas  Jones,  Esq., 
Superintendent  of  the  Institution,  and  his  successor,  Dr.  Pe 
ter  D.  Vroom,  now  of  Jersey  City  ;  also  Mr.  William  Boggs, 


X  PREFACE. 

Principal  Teacher,  afterwards  Superintendent  of  the  Bloom- 
ingdale  Lunatic  Asylum ;  Miss  Frances  J.  Crosby,  and 
Miss  Cynthia  Bullock,  well  known  for  many  beautiful  con 
tributions  to  the  poetry  of  the  day,  Miss  Ann  Smith,  Miss 
Josephine  Mariuse,  and  Miss  Catharine  Kennedy. 

Those  who  know  not  the  affliction  of  blindness,  and  the 
sweet  counsels  of  sympathizing  friends,  cannot  conceive  the 
bitter  pang  with  which  Alice  bade  adieu  to  the  Institution 
and  the  companions  of  near  seven  years'  communion ;  for 
she  was  a  stranger  in  her  own  home,  and  felt  that  her  path 
was  thenceforth  darker  and  more  rugged.  She  had  been 
passing  a  pleasant  period  of  life,  with  every  want  provided 
for,  and  every  taste  gratified ;  she  was  now  to  enter  upon 
life's  realities,  and  make  her  way  by  the  force  of  her  own 
character.  By  means  of  plain  sewing,  and  other  han 
diwork,  she  has  been  enabled  to  gain  a  precarious  liveli 
hood.  To  poetry  she  only  turned  as  a  solace  in  her 
darker  hour,  directed  thereto  by  a  friend,  an  admirer  and 
cultivator  of  the  art,  Miss  Jean  L.  Bruce,  then  of  Jersey 
City. 

To  the  tender  care  of  friends  she  commends  her  little 
book,  and  the  story  of  her  life,  trusting  that  its  unpre 
tending  character  will  prove  a  protection  from  the  pen  of 
criticism,  and  a  good  intention  atone  for  many  faults. 

Jersey  City,  October,  1849. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

A  Soliloquy 9 

Written  after  returning  from  Church         ....  10 

Consolation    .                                   12 

Dost  thou  remember  Me? 13 

Written  after  a  Storm 14 

Written  after  leaving  the  Institution  for  the  Blind     .        .  16 

To  an  Afflicted  Friend 19 

Sunday  Morning        .         .         .         •         .         .         .         .  19 

To  a  Friend  in  the  Church 21 

Daily  Worship  in  the  House  of  God          ....  23 

Faithful  Love 24 

To  the  Blind  Girl      .                  26 

Christmas 27 

On  the  Death  of  an  Infant 28 

A  Petition 29 

On  Lent 30 

Lines  addressed  to  Miss  Cynthia  Bullock      .         ...         .31 

On  Morning 33 

On  Evening .         .34 

Farewell  to  my  Native  Land 35 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

On  Death 36 

An  Evening  Hymn 37 

Childhood's  Scenes 38 

The  Wind 39 

Lines  addressed  to  Miss  J.  L.  B. 40 

A  Brother  Lost  at  Sea 41 

Lanes  to  a  Sister  on  the  Loss  of  a  Child      .         .         .         .43 

A  Prayer 44 

Lines  dedicated  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wheeler     .         .         .         .46 

To  my  Cousin 46 

To  a  Bride 47 

To  Bereaved  Parents 49 

Friendship     .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .50 

To  a  Dying  Brother 51 

On  Parting  with  Friends 63 


POEMS 


MY  harp  is  on  the  willow  hung  ; 

To  me  the  morning  brings  no  light ; 
No  ray  of  sun  or  moon  I  see, 

But  one  unchanging  night. 

I  cannot  view  those  gem-like  stars, 
That  sparkle  in  the  ethereal  skies ; 

Nor  trace  the  clouds  with  golden  fringe, 
That  o'er  the  sunset  rise. 

Nor  gaze  upon  the  blooming  flowers, 
That  make  the  face  of  nature  gay ; 

Nor  watch  the  ocean's  sparkling  waves, 
Where  dancing  sunbeams  play. 

To  me  the  variegated  earth 

Would  seem  one  dark,  unbroken  plain, 
If,  in  my  heart,  I  had  not  hid 

Bright  visions  that  oft  come  again. 
2 


10  POEMS. 

For  I  through  nine  fair  summers  passed, 
With  scarce  a  cloud  to  shade  my  way, 

And  loved  the  face  of  nature  more, 
With  each  returning  day. 

But  ere  a  tenth  had  fully  come, 

My  gladsome  heart  was  wrapt  in  gloom  ; 

Lo !  I  was  banished  from  the  light, 
Condemned  to  a  living  tomb, — 

• 

Where  even  Hope's  fair  star  grows  dim, 

With  clouds  that  o'er  my  spirit  rise, 
And  hide  the  gleams  of  holy  light, 
Imparted  from  the  skies. 

But  oh  !  I  will  with  patience  bear 

A  grief  which  none  can  feel  or  know, 

But  those  for  whom  it  is  ordained, 
By  Him  who  wills  it  so. 

And  Faith,  not  Sight,  shall  be  my  guide 
To  Canaan's  fair,  celestial  shore, 

Where  Faith  is  lost  in  perfect  Sight, 
And  darkness  is  no  more. 


Written  after  rrttmiing  frnm  Cjjtrrr 

WHEN  in  Thy  sacred  courts,  O  Lord  ! 

We  meet  with  hearts  sincere ; 
To  ask  of  Thee  our  daily  bread, 

Then  in  our  midst  appear  : 


POEMS.  11 

And  give  us  each  a  heart  to  feel, 

That  Thou  art  truly  there, 
Waiting  to  shed  Thy  dews  of  grace, 

On  all  who  ask  in  prayer. 

And  by  Thy  Spirit  all  Divine, 

Enlighten  Thou  our  souls; 
That  in  Thy  Word  we  may  behold 

The  glories  it  unfolds. 

And  when  to  lure  our  hearts  from  Thee, 

Appears  the  Evil  One, 
Oh  aid  us  by  Thy  special  grace, 

His  golden  snares  to  shun. 

And  for  the  Faith,  delivered  once, 

To  holy  saints  of  old, 
May  we  contend  with  earnestness, 

And  in  the  truth  wax  bold. 

And  when  we  at  Thy  Altar  kneel, 

To  pay  our  vows  to  Thee, 
Oh  !  fill  our  hearts  with  grateful  love, 

And  deep  humility. 

As  we  the  cup  of  blessing  take, 

And  eat  the  broken  bread, 
By  faith  may  we  behold  the  Lamb, 

Whose  blood  for  us  was  shed. 

And  ever  thankful  keep  in  mind, 

His  gracious  sacrifice, 
That  gains  for  us  eternal  life, 

With  angels  in  the  skies. 


12  POEMS. 

And  through  those  pledges  of  His  love, 
Which  He  for  us  ordained, 

May  we  gain  strength  to  win  the  prize, 
That  is  through  Him  obtained. 


WEEP  not,  weep  not,  though  death's  benumbing  fingers 
Have  rudely  nipped  a  fair  and  tender  bud ; 

In  that  sweet  germ  no  blight  of  sorrow  lingers, 
But  on  celestial  wings  'tis  borne  to  God. 

Weep  not,  weep  not ;  the  bud  that  faded  here, 
Now  sweetly  blooms  'mid  amaranthine  flowers  ; 

In  that  high,  holy,  bright,  immortal  sphere, 

'Tis  now  refreshed  by  love's  soft  genial  showers. 

Weep  not,  weep  not ;  the  bud  that  ye  caressed, 
In  sunny  climes,  by  ever-livfng  springs, 

Is  now  with  life,  in  full-blown  beauty  blessed, 
And  on  celestial  air,  its  sweetness  flings. 

Weep  not,  weep  not ;  in  those  delightful  regions. 
Basking  in  sunny  smiles  of  Jesus'  love, 

Thy  tender  bud,  guarded  by  angel  legions, 
Immortal  blooms  in  Paradise  above. 


POEMS.  13 


final  tjnra  lUrarmkr  J&i  ? 

WHEN  shades  of  sorrow  cloud  my  brow, 

And  anguish  wrings  my  heart, 
With  fond  regret,  I  think  of  thee, 

And  wonder  where  thou  art. 
When  twilight  sheds  its  rosy  hue 

In  silence  o'er  the  sea, 
My  heart  in  deepest  sadness  asks, 

Dost  thou  remember  me  ? 

And  when  the  wild,  wild  tempest  howls, 

And  dashing  breakers  roar, 
Borne  oh  the  winds  I  seem  to  hear 

A  voice  I've  heard  before  ; 
And  when  the  spot  where  last  we  met 

I  chance  at  eve  to  see, 
I  more  and  more  desire  to  know, 

Dost  thou  remember  me  ? 

Or  when  in  pensive  mood  I  stray, 

To  watch  the  ebbing  tide, 
I  seem  to  hear  thy  footsteps  fall, 

And  think  thee  near  my  side. 
But  when  thy  name  I  fondly  call, 

An  echo  o'er  the  sea 
Brings  back  the  one  unchanging  thought, 

Dost  thou  remember  me  ? 

And  when  celestial  spirits  wait 

To  bear  on  wings  of  love 
The  vesper-song  which  mortals  chant 

To  Him  who  reigns  above ; 


14  P  OE       S  . 

Oh,  in  that  sweet  and  hallowed  hour 
My  thoughts  recur  to  thee, 

And  fondly,  fondly  do  I  trust 
Thou  dost  remember  me. 

And  when  upon  my  vision  steals 

The  first  soft  gleam  of  day, 
And  insect  music  thrills  the  air, 

And  birds  their  homage  pay  ; 
I  from  my  dreamy  slumber  rise, 

And  watching  angels  flee, 
But  whisper,  as  they  soar  away, 

Thou  dost  remember  me. 

In  joy,  in  grief, — at  eve,  at  morn, 

And  all  the  livelong  day, 
My  heart  with  pure  affection  beats 

For  thee,  though  far  away  ; 
And  with  my  last  expiring  breath 

I'll  offer  prayer  for  thee, 
And  trust  that,  in  thy  latest  hours, 

Thou  wilt  remember  me. 


8-Jritfett  din  rt  Itnrm. 

THE  dark  cloud  is  past,  the  wild  storm  is  o'er, 
And  the  thunder's  loud  crash  re-echoes  no  more  ; 
And  the  ocean's  proud  billows,  that  rolled  mountain-high, 
Now  calm  on  its  breast  all  motionless  lie. 

N 

The  bark  that  by  waves  was  tossed  to  and  fro", 
Again  spreads  its  sails  to  the  fathomless  blue  ; 


POEMS.  15 

And  the  bright  orb  of  day,  that  vanished  awhile, 
Is  cheering  the  earth  again  with  its  smile. 

And  rude  boisterous  winds,  that  howled  through  green  trees, 
Are  now  giving  place  to  a  soft  summer  breeze  ; 
And  birds,  to  the  mountains  for  refuge  that  flew, 
Are  warbling  to  God  the  praise  to  Him  due. 

And  wild  blooming  flowers,  that  drank  of  the  rain, 
Are  shedding  sweet  perfume  o'er  dale,  hill,  and  plain  ; 
And  the  large  drops  that  fell,  like  tears  from  the  sky, 
Now  gem-like,  embroider  the  beds  where  they  lie. 

The  lowing  of  herds  is  passing  away, 
And  again  on  the  hills  the  young  lambs  are  at  play, 
And  the  bee,  that  had  ceased  from  his  labors  awhile, 
Is  basking  again  in  the  sunbeam's  smile. 

Insects  that  thirsted,  are  filling  the  air 
With  songs  of  thanksgiving,  for  answer  to  prayer, 
And  the  earth's  summer  robe,  that  faded  had  been, 
Is  turning  again  to  a  beautiful  green. 

Though  wild  was  the  tempest,  and  dark  was  the  cloud, 
And  harsh  was  the  thunder  that  echoed  so  loud, 
Yet  nature  rejoices,  since  these  are  all  past,  * 

And  fear  and  dismay  are  now  fled  in  the  blast. 


16  POEMS, 


Wtitim  n  brag  tip  Snstittttinn  for  tjj? 

ADIEU,  adieu,  my  long-loved  home, 

Where  genial  spirits  dwell, 
For  I  must  bid  thy  hearth  and  halls, 

This  day,  a  sad  farewell. 
Thy  vesper-bell  will  peal  at  eve, 

But  not,  alas  !  for  me, 
For  I  shall  be  alone  and  sad, 

Far,  far  away  from  thee ! 

Adieu,  adieu,  my  guides  beloved, 

I  may  no  longer  share 
Your  kind  regards,  your  patient  toil, 

Your  ever-watchful  care. 
Fain,  fain  with  you  I'd  linger  still, 

And  more  of  knowledge  gain  ; 
But  'tis  decreed  that  I  must  go, 

The  wish  to  stay  is  vain. 

Adieu,  adieu,  companions  dear, 

My  sisters,  brothers,  friends ; 
This  day  completes  my  stay  with  you, 

This  day  our  union  ends. 
But  oh  !  how  can  I,  can  I  bear 

To  hear  the  death-like  knell, 
That  bids  me  tear  my  heart  away 

From  those  I  love  so  well  ?  , 

Adieu,  adieu  !  it  must  be  so ! 

The  moment  now  is  near   . 
That  bids  me  haste  from  you  away, 

My  long-loved  schoolmates  dear. 


POEMS 


17 


When  ye  this  eye  at  vespers  meet, 

To  chant  a  choral  lay, 
Oh,  breathe  for  me  one  heartfelt  prayer, 

Who  -will  be  fjj  ciivay. 

Adieti;  adieu,  ye  noble  sires, 


Have  formed  a  plan,  that  e'en  the  Hind 

May  Wrn  tfog  im&il  artn,  . 
-"Expressions  fit  your  praise.io  speak 

I  know  not  where  to  find  ; 
.May  God  reward  your  efforts  made 
To  educate  the  blind. 


Adieu,  adieu,  top  happy  hours 
That  learning  did  employ, 

And  gave  for  ey^y--ojotaeftt>si_toil 
A  sweet  reward  of  joy  : 

For  they  will  be  no  longer  mine, 
_  My  schoolday  joys  areja'er  ; 

Far  dearer  should  I  prize  them  now, 
Could,  they  return  once  more. 


rocks  we  heard 

f  the  tide,; 

And  wanderings  at  twilight  hour, 

Through  grove,  by  hill  and  stream, 
That  I  have  eyer  fondly  prized, 
ley  seem. 


18  POEMS. 

Much  shall  I  miss  its  magic  power 
To  cheer  my  lonely  heart. 

Adieu,  ye  birds  at  early  dawn 
That  near  my  casement  sung, 

While  all  around  the  waking  flowers 
Their  soft,  sweet  odors  flung. 

Adieu,  adieu,  ye  trees  and  flowers, 

And  pleasant  play-grounds  all ; 
A  voice  for  me  is  calling  now 

From  yonder  front-door  hall. 
This  stately  domicil  demands 

A  parting  farewell,  too ; 
But  oh !  'tis  sad  to  all  we've  loved 

At  once  to  bid  adieu  ! 

Adieu,  adieu,  my  cloister-home, 

With  all  thy  hallowed  ties  ; 
The  precepts  thou  hast  given  me 

Most  dearly  I  shall  prize. 
Trials  perchance  await  me  now, 

I  know  not  yet  my  lot ; 
But  be  it  weal,  or  be  it  woe, 

Thou  shalt  not  be  forgot. 

Adieu,  once  more,  ye  loved  ones  all ! 

Forgive  these  gushing  tears, 
And  all  the  wrongs  I  you  have  done 

Through  even  by.gone  years. 
Still  in  your  hearts  oh  let  me  live, 

Till  ye  are  called  to  die ; — 
Oh,  now  they  lead  me  to  the  gate  ! 

Loved  home — good  bye — good  bye  ! 


POEMS.  19 


$n  nil  Mirtrir  /minx 

OH,  why  dost  thou  mourn  for  the  dead  ? 

Though  fondest  of  ties  have  been  riven, 
The  spirit  withdrawn  from  the  earth 

Serenely  awaits  thee  in  heaven. 
Though  thou  must  here  linger  awhile, 

Where  hope  is  e'er  shaded  by  fears, 
The  harvest  of  joy  shall  they  reap 

Whose  seed-time  is  watered  by  tears. 

But  oh  !  if  in  God  be  thy  trust, 

How  sweet  is  the  promise  that's  given  ! 
The  mourner  He'll  lift  from  the  dust, 

To  crown  her  with  triumph  in  heaven. 
There,  in  the  blest  regions  above, 

God  wipes  away  tears  from  all  eyes, 
And  'neath  ihe  broad  sky  of  His  love 

No  dark  cloud  of  sorrow  can  rise. 


itraktj  ®nming. 

OH,  holy  day  !  we  hail  thy  dawn, 

That  gently  wakes  the  sleeping  earth, 

For  peace  and  rest  with  thee  are  born, 
And  joy  that  fills  the  soul  with  mirth. 

Thy  holy  beams  all  toil  repel, 
And  bid  men  for  a  while  retire 


20  POEMS. 

From  scenes  where  care  and  business  dwell, 
And  oft  their  votaries  expire. 

And  in  thy  sacred  hours  we  learn 
Our  Heavenly  Father's  gracious  will, 

When  to  His  holy  word  we  turn, 
And  seek  the  truths  it  doth  reveal. 

Or  when  His  hallowed  courts  we  tread, 
In  humble  faith  with  love  combined, 

And  hear  of  Christ,  our  living  Head, 
Through  His  ambassadors  divine. 

And  in  the  joys  thy  mornings  bring, 
A  pure  and  beauteous  type  is  given 

Of  that  unchanging  glorious  spring, 
Which  saints  of  light  enjoy  in  heaven. 

For  as  thy  hours  of  joy  and  peace 
Succeed  the  week  of  anxious  care, 

So  doth  eternal  happiness 

With  God,  the  Christian's  trials  here. 

And  in  thy  name  what  joy  is  born, 

While  holy  oracles  disclose, 
That  once  on  thy  auspicious  morn 

The  Sun  of  Righteousness  arose. 

Oh  may  this  truth  our  souls  pervade, 
Whene'er  thy  light  illumes  the  sky, 

That  we  may  strive  with  Christ,  our  Head, 
From  death  to  rise  triumphantly. 


POEMS.  21 

And  may  thy  holy  beams  be  shed 

Where'er  the  sun's  bright  rays  are  known, 

Till" all  our  race,  of  every  grade, 
With  one  accord  thy  influence  own. 


a  ftiwfo  in  tip  ^Jurtjr  tajjn  mm  gnitig  immtj. 

OUR  hearts  are  filled  with  fond  regret, 

While  thee  we  bid  farewell, 
Whose  cherished  form  we  loved  to  meet, 

Where  God  delights  to  dwell. 

For  oh  !  what  tongue  can  ever  speak 

The  joys  which  we  have  known, 
When  by  our  pastor  kindly  led, 

Jehovah's  love  to  own. 

As  daily  in  His  sacred  courts, 

We  met  in  number  few, 
But  joined  in  faith,  from  springs  of  love 

We  living  waters  drew. 

And  oft  in  sweet  communion  knelt 

Around  that  hallowed  shrine, 
Where  Christ  vouchsafed  our  souls  to  feed 

On  banquets  most  divine. 

And  with  the  pure  angelic  host 

We  joined  our  thankful  songs, 
In  adoration  of  the  Lamb, 

To  whom  all  praise  belongs. 


22  POEMS. 

And  must  we,  must  we,  sever  now  ? 

Oh,  must  we  loose  the  tie, 
That  binds  our  hearts  in  union  sweet, 

While  passing  to  the  sky  ? 

Must  we  indeed  no  longer  meet 

Within  that  hallowed  place, 
Where  we  have  loved  to  meet  our  God, 

And  seek  His  aiding  grace  ? 

Oh  yes,  alas !  'tis  even  so ; 

We  must  asunder  part ; 
Though  great  to  us  will  be  the  loss 

Of  thy  warm,  tender  heart. 

But  at  our  Father's  gracious  will, 

Oh  let  us  not  repine, 
But  trust  that  all  our  trials  here, 

Are  sent  in  love  benign. 

And  in  our  hearts  we'll  cherish  still, 
The  friend  that  now  we- love ; 

Relying  on  the  joyous  hope, 
That  we  shall  meet  above, 

Where  Christ,  the  bright  and  morning  star, 

Shall  be  our  constant  light, 
To  whom  with  angels  we'll  ascribe 

Both  majesty  and  might. 

Adieu,  adieu  !  a  little  while, 

And  may  our  Father's  hand 
Guide  thee  safe  through  this  darksome  world, 

To  yonder  spirit-land. 


POEMS.  23 


ip  in  tjp  Innsfe  nf 


WHAT  sacred  gleams  of  heavenly  joy 
To  us  each  morning  brings, 

Who  in  Thy  courts  this  hour  employ, 
To  praise  Thee,  King  of  kings. 

For  as  we  hold  communion  sweet, 

Strengthened  by  holy  ties, 
While  here  together  we  repeat 

Our  anthems  to  the  skies, 

And  lowly  bend  before  Thy  shrine, 

Thy  love  a  halo  flings 
Around  our  head,  and  joys  divine 

Come  as  on  seraph's  wings. 

Yea,  though  our  number  small  may  be, 

Thy  promise  still  remains  ; 
Amid  the  praying  two  or  three, 

Thy  blissful  presence  reigns. 

On  those  who  here  reveal  Thy  will, 
Shed  beams  of  heavenly  light, 

That  they  to  Zion's  holy  hill 
May  guide  our  steps  aright. 

And  oh,  increase  the  joy  and  love, 
That  flow  from  prayer  and  praise, 

Till  in  the  blissful  realms  aboVe, 
An  endless  song  we  raise. 


24  POEMS 


THE  clear  evening  sky  was  mantled  in  blue, 

And  flow'rets  that  slept  were  covered  with  dew  ; 

Laden  with  perfume,  a  soft  summer  -breeze 

Came  floating  along  through  whispering  trees  ; 

Enthroned  above,  the  fair  queen  of  night 

Was  tinging  the  sea  with  silvery  light, 

And  bright  gleaming  stars  that  circled  her  brow, 

Glanced  down  amazed  on  the  beauties  below. 

'Neath  ocean's  calm  breast,  its  billows  and  waves 

Had  sunk  to  repose  in  the  coral  caves : 

Nature  seemed  praising  in  silence  her  Lord, 

Who  gave  to  her,  birth  by  power  of  His  word. 

Such  was  the  fair  evening,  so  lonely  and  still, 

When  by  the  side  of  a  clear  mountain  rill, 

'Neath  an  old  oak's  boughs  that  were  waving  there, 

A  maiden  breathed  for  her  lover  a  prayer ; 

For  hither  had  been  their  chosen  retreat, 

At  still  even-tide,  when  fond  lovers  meet. 

Now  lonely  each  night  she  knelt  by  that  stream, 

Whose  murmurings  low,  seemed  charmed  with  her  theme. 

As  softly  she  spoke,  in  tones  sweet  and  clear, 

One  might  have  fancied  a  seraph  was  near. 

While  her  hands  were  clasped  on  her  snow-white  breast, 

A  small  golden  heart  to  her  own  was  pressed, 

Which  she  had  received  as  a  parting  pledge 

'Neath  the  old  oak  tree  at  that  streamlet's  edge. 

Solemn  and  pure  was  the  prayer  of  love, 

That  rose  from  her  heart  to  the  Throne  above, 

For  his  safe  return,  who  was  dearer  far 

Than  the  morning  sun  or  the  evening  star. 


POEMS.  25 

His  duly  was  now  in  a  distant  land 

To  hazard  his  life  with  a  noble  band. 

In  the  toils  of  war  he  was  called  to  share, 

And  a  soldier's  part  for  his  country  bear. 

A  tear-drop  rolled  from  her  soft  blue  eye, 

As  upward  she  gazed  at  the  starlit  sky, 

Watching  perchance  some  angel's  flight 

That  bore  on  his  wings  her  request  each  night ; 

For  hers  was  the  prayer  of  faith  and  of  love 

That  ever  finds  grace  in  that  world  above. 

Though  Heaven  may  please  awhile  to  delay 

The  favor  that's  sought  from  day  to  day, 

Still  it  hearkens  and  hears,  and  will  answer  give 

To  such  as  by  faith  its  bounties  receive. 

And  so  did  it  prove  with  that  maiden  fair, 

Whose  pure  faith  banished  all  gloom  and  despair. 

Lo,  at  the  same  hour,  the  next  even-tide, 
There  knelt  by  her  one,  that  called  her  his  bride, 
Who  had  hastened  from  war  to  fulfil  his  vow, 
While  victory's  wreath  was  fresh  on  his  brow. 
And,  hand  joined  in  hand  by  that  mountain  stream,; 
They  sat  to  rehearse  love's  long-cherished  dream  ; 
And  hovering  round  came  angels  of  light, 
Soft  whispering  joy,  then  winging  their  flight. 
The  bliss  of  that  hour  was  dear  to  each  heart, 
That  love  had  entwined,  now  never  to  part. 


26  POEMS. 


COULD  ye  but  know  the  blind  girl's  thoughts, 

When  all  around  her  sleep, 
As  alone  she  mourns  o'er  her  sad,  sad  fate, 

Oh  then  with  her  ye'd  weep. 

When  bounteous  morning's  rosy  light 
Comes  streaming  from  the  sky, 

But  she  remains  in  darkness  still, 
Oh  then  with  her  ye'd  sigh. 

Or  when  forth  she's  led  by  the  hand 

To  breathe  the  open  air, 
And  hears  her  name  by  others  said, 

With  her  ye'd  offer  prayer. 

Or  when  gay  hearts  around  her  beat 

In  joy  from  day  to  day, 
While  she  alone  neglected  sits, 

With  her  ye'd  steal  away. 

When  the  fair  summer's  evening  sky 

Is  tinged  with  parting  light, 
And  all  but  she  its  beauty  see, 

With  her  ye'd  long  for  sight. 

•/  O  O 

Or  when  some  fondly  cherished  friend, 

On  whom  she  does  rely, 
Is  called  by  death  to  say  farewell, 

With  her  ye'd  wish  to  die. 


POEMS.  27 


Or  when  some  kind  and  gentle  voice 

Falls  softly  on  her  ear, 
And  bids  her  from  deep  sorrow  rise, 

With  her  ye'd  shed  a  tear. 

Ah,  yes !  when  her  sad  spirit  turns, 

In  love  without  alloy, 
To  one  who  does  some  kindness  show, 

With  her  ye'd  weep  for  joy. 


NIGHT'S  curtain  o'er  the  earth  was  hung, 
Spangled  with  stars  that  brightly  gleamed, 

While  o'er  blest  Judah's  ancient  plains 
The  queen  of  night  in  splendor  beamed. 

When  lo,  to  shepherds  watching  there, 
Appeared  an  angel  robed  in  white, 

Pointing  to  one  bright,  new-born  star, 
Which  rose  o'er  Bethlehem  that  night. 

And  God's  bright  glory  shone  around, 

Which  filled  their  hearts  with  awe  and  fear, 

While  he  in  sweetest  accents  told 

That  Israel's  promised  King  was  near. 

Fear  not,  that  shining  angel  said, 

But  oh,  rejoice  with  holy  mirth, 
For  I  the  wished-for  tidings  bring 

Of  the  Messiah's  promised  birth. 


28  P  O  K  M  S  , 

Of  David's  royal  house  and  line 
There's  born  in  Bethlehem  a  King, 

Who  to  all  nations  of  the  earth 

Doth  great  and  sure  deliverance  bring. 

Go,  see  yourselves  the  Heavenly  Prince, 
Whom  in  a  manger  ye  will  find  ; 

For  meek  and  low  doth  He  descend 
To  be  the  Saviour  of  mankind. 

Then  to  heaven's  arch  that  angel  swift 
On  pure  celestial  wings  did  fly, 

And  shining  hosts  of  seraphs  bright 
With  hallelujahs  filled  the  sky. 

Glory,  glory  to  God  on  high  ! 

In  strains  of  harmony  they  sung ; 
Peace  henceforth  from  Heaven  to  men, 

Through  celestial  arches  rung. 

Oh,  like  the  seraph  hosts,  let  us 

Hail  with  glad  sounds  of  holy  mirth, 

The  morn  which  saw  in  Bethlehem 
Our  great  Redeemer's  hallowed  birth. 


DEAR  infant,  though  thy  playful  smile 
Is  checked  by  Death's  pale  stealthy  form, 

Who  locks  thee  in  his  cold  embrace, 
And  we  its  loss  do  deeply  mourn  ; 


POEMS.  29 

For  oft  it  cheered  our  saddened  hearts 

When  o'er  them,  care  dark  shadows  flung, 

As  morning's  light  illumes  the  sky 

With  night's  black  curtain  overhung  : — 

Yet  to  a  brighter,  fairer  world, 

Thy  gentle  spirit  wings  its  way, 
Where  saints  their  praise  with  angels  join 

To  Him  whose  mercy  crowns  each  day. 
Though  in  the  tomb  thy  beauty  fades, 

As  flow 'rets  nipped  by  winter's  breath, 
Yet  thou  in  yonder  spirit-land 

Wilt  bloom  all  free  from  pain  and  death. 

Where  from  the  pure  celestial  springs 

Bright  streams  of  living  waters  flow, 
And  fragrant  amaranthine  flowers 

On  trees  of  life  immortal  grow. 
Then  go,  dear  infant,  and  enjoy 

The  bliss  that  is  to  angels  given, 
And  in  our  hearts  thy  smile  shall  dwell 

Till  we  shall  meet  again  in  heaven. 


f  tfitinti 


OH  God,  some  guardian  angel  send 
To  guide  .me  through  life's  stormy  sea 

May  peace  and  hope  my  path  attend, 
Till  T  shall  find  a  home  with  thee. 


30  POEMS. 

But  if  Thy  holy  will  be  this, 

With  pain  my  daily  path  to  strew  • 

Let  me  submit  with  willingness, 

And  from  this  world,  a  brighter  view. 

And  when  my  days  on  earth  are  passed, 
And  death  shall  with  its  terrors  come, 

Oh,  may  my  soul  be  safe  at  last, 
And  borne  by  angels  to  its  home. 


DEAR  Saviour,  now  Thine  ear  incline, 

While  Thee  we  seek  by  fervent  prayer, 
And  fill  our  hearts  with  love  divine, 

That  we  with  joy  Thy  cross  may  bear  ; 
For  we  have  hailed  with  holy  mirth 

The  sacred  Christmas  festival, 
That  tells  us  of  Thy  lowly  birth, 

When  first  on  earth  Thou  cam'st  to  dwell. 

And  now  with  Thee  we'll  gladly  go, 

In  deepest  penitence  arrayed, 
And  taste  Thy  bitter  grief  and  woe 

In  the  lonely  desert  shade  ; 
And  there  bewail  our  sinful  deeds 

In  weeping,  fasting,  and  in  prayer, 
And  follow  where  Thy  Spirit  leads, 

And  joyful  all  Thy  sorrows  share. 


POEMS. 

Oh,  giv^tfs  grace  those  m 


use 


^hyself  into  ouj^souls  infuse, 

And  day  by  day  our  hearts  rene\ 
Until  the  bi««psnl~ElS^rlijaorfl 

Shalljuteft  Thy  holy  Church  relief; 

nth'  and  Hope  may  we  press  on, 
The»  share  Thy  joy,  as  now  Thy  griei. 


ti&xmti  to  %b\w  Ctjtrtjjiit  Skllnrk. 


OH,  dear  cpmpaniorr,  please  accept 

^»rtefhT)le^tP»fn''6T  mine  ; 
For  ip&Tmy  heart  some  proof  would  give 
^^tjf  sympathy  with  thine. 

Through  many  long  and  changeful  years 
^s^BftoGSF^rert  my  constant  friend, 
And  though  by  distance  severed  now, 

In  love  our  spirits  blend  ; 
And  oft  at  eve  I  steal  away, 

And  callj3jtimd  the  days 
When  we  in  school  togeThefc.sought 

Instructlpii^clfeerrflg  rays  '•> 
For.  those  indeed  were  happy  hours, 
•"^When  we  had  nought  to  mind 
Save  books  and  friends  that  did  unfold 

New  beauties  to  the  blind. 


gained 


Ere  I  its  value  knew 
But  daily,  with  thy  kindly  aid, 
My  tasks  to  pleasures  grew 


32  POEMS. 

Thou  too  in  pure  and  sacred  things 

Hast  oft  instructed  me  ; 
For  many  holy  truths  I  stand 

Indebted  still  to  thee, 
Imparted  in  those  happy  hours 

When  we  were  wont  to  stray 
Along  the  fair,  green  Hudson's  banks, 

As  twilight  closed  the  day ; 
And  oft  with  loving  sympathy 

Thou  wouldst  my  spirit  cheer, 
And  make  the  darkest  cloud  of  grief 

Like  one  of  light  appear. 
At  other  times,  on  well-tuned  strings 

Thou  wouldst  play  for  me  awhile, 
Or  sing  some  sweet,  enchanting  strain, 

And  thus  my  heart  beguile. 
And  other  hours  I  spent  with  thee, 

Which  now  I  call  to  mind, 
For  it  was  in  them  we  twined  the  wreathes 

That  now  our  spirits  bind : 
And  dear  I  know  to  thy  fond  heart 

Those  moments  still  remain, 
When  we  in  prayer  together  sought 

Our  Father's  love  to  gain ; 
And  at  his  shrine,  O  may  I  trust 

Thou  pleadest  still  for  me, 
And  in  the  holy  Eucharist 

I'll  still  remember  thee. 
So,  though  on  earth  we're  severed  far, 

Unitedly  in  love 
Let  us  press  on  to  yon  bright  world, 

And  join  the  saints  above. 


POEMS.  33 


dDn  Stoiitg. 

OH,  sweet  is  the  dawning  hour, 
When  dews  like  holy  incense  rise, 

And  waft  to  God,  on  mystic  wings, 
Earth's  morning  sacrifice. 

And  fair  Aurora  tints 

The  azure  sky  with  golden  light, 
And  chases  far  the  sable  clouds 

That  veil  the  world  in  night. 

And  angels  bright  that  watch 

Nightly  while  earth  reposing  lies, 

Spreading  their  pure  celestial  wings, 
Mount  swiftly  to  the  skies. 

Or  rosy  twilight  fades 

Before  the  gorgeous  king  of  day, 
Who  from  the  east  rejoicing  comes 

In  glorious  array. 

And  gentle  zephyrs  kiss 

Dew-drops  from  the  blushing  flowers, 
That  waking  shed  their  odors  sweet 

Through  fields  and  summer  bowers. 

And  on  the  ocean's  wave 

Sunbeams  like  golden  shadows  gleam, 
And  laughing  breezes  catch  the  spray 

That  leaps  from  mountain  stream. 
3 


34  POEMS. 

And  to  the  huntsman's  horn 

The  echoing  rocks  and  hills  reply. 

And  beasts  of  prey  that  nightly  prowl 
Like  falcons  swift  go  by. 

And  insect  voices  greet 

With  songs  of  praise  the  waking  day, 
And  feathered  songsters  warble  sweet 

To  God  their  morning  lay. 

And  man  from  sweet  repose, 
Joyful  again  to  see  the  light, 

Goes  forth  to  toil  with  cheerful  heart, 
Till  day  gives  place  to  night. 

O  sweet  and  hallowed  time, 
Let  thy  peaceful  influence  rest 

On  all  the  hours  that  shall  succeed 
To  this  that  thou  hast  blessed. 


How  beauteous  and  serene 
Is  summer's  tranquil  night, 

When  Cynthia's  silvery  beams 
Supply  the  earth  with  light. 

When  stars  are  gently  gleaming 
With  radiance  in  the  sky, 

And  angels  vigils  keeping, 
Commissioned  from  on  high. 


POEMS.  35 


Though  the  notes  of  birds  are  hushed, 
Yet  fragrance  fills  the  air, 

And  the  winds  that  softly  blow 
No  signs  of  tempest  bear. 

When  the  hum  of  toil  has  ceased 
That  wakes  with  early  dawn, 

And  saints  to  the  spirit-land 
On  wings  of  love  are  borne. 

While  stillness  reigns  supreme, 
O'er  mountain,  sea,  and  earth, 

And  Nature  seems  to  worship 
The  God  who  gave  her  birth. 

Yes,  beauteous  is  the  scene 

When  night  doth  daylight  close, 

And  beneath  the  gilded  sky 
All's  wrapped  in  sweet  repose. 


fmmii  to  mq  Jfofe 


FAREWELL  to  the  cottage,  the  garden  and  flowers, 
Where  oft  in  my  childhood  passed  frolicksome  hours 
Farewell  to  the  meadow,  the  brook  and  the  trees, 
Where  the  music  of  birds  is  borne  on  the  breeze  ; 
Farewell  to  the  lane,  the  green  hill-side  and  glen, 
Whose  paths  I  have  trodden  again  and  again  ; 
Farewell,  dear  companions,  so  joyous  and  gay, 
For,  alas  !  I  must  go  away,  far  away. 


36  POEMS. 

Farewell  to  the  schoolhouse,  and  the  church  with  its  bell, 
That  echoes  so-  sweetly  o'er  vale,  hill,  and  dell ; 
Farewell,  holy  ground,  where  my  kindred  do  sleep, 
May  angels  the  brightest  a  watch  o'er  it  keep ; 
Farewell,  dearest  friends,  first  loved  of  my  heart, 
For  the  changing  of  time  now  bids  us  to  part. 
E'en  though  we  are  severed,  let  this  be  our  trust, 
That  again  we  shall  meet  in  the  realms  of  the  just. 


How  keen  is  the  anguish  that  nature  sustains 
When  Death  in  our  midst  doth  appear, 

And  binds  from  our  circle  in  his  icy  chains 
The  spirits  by  us  held  most  dear. 

Ah,  yes,  when  a  parent  we've  fervently  loved 

Is  snatched,  in  a  moment  of  time, 
From  fondest  of  hearts,  who,  like  spirits  above, 

Ever  dwelt  in  union  sublime. 

Or  when  a  sweet  babe,  like  a  flower  just  in  bud, 

From  those  who  caressed  it  is  torn, 
Though  carried  by  angels  to  bloom  with  its  God, 

How  deep  is  the  anguish  that's  borne. 

But  why  without  hope  should  we  bitterly  mourn 

The  lot  that  must  fall  on  all  men  ? 
For  the  just  who  in  faith  pass  through  this  sad  vale, 

Live  where  pain  never  reaches  again. 


POEMS.  37 

Oh,  then  let  us  find,  in  the  deepest  of  woe, 

The  comfort  so  graciously  given  ; 
Though  sorrow  and  death  are  our  cross  here  below, 

Peace  and  life  both  await  us  in  heaven. 


§tt  <teing  Itjtmt. 


OH,  Heavenly  Father,  deign  to  hear 
My  evening  song  of  praise  ; 

For  nightly,  with  a  grateful  heart, 
To  Thee  my  voice  I'll  raise. 

Though  sore  affliction  day  by  day 
Shall  all  my  paths  attend, 

Yet  still,  oh  God,  at  eventide, 
Before  Thy  shrine  I'll  bend  ; 

And  there,  oh  there,  I  will  pour  out 

My  inmost  soul  to  Thee, 
Whose  never-failing  springs  of  love 

Are  open  still  to  me. 

And  Thine  assistance,  Lord,  I'll  ask, 

That  I  may  rightly  pay 
The  tribute  which  each  night  I  owe 

For  mercies  of  the  day. 

And  through  His  all-sufficient  name 

I  trust  to  gain  Thy  love, 
Who  for  my  sins  was  crucified, 

That  I  might  dwell  above. 


POEMS 


And  when,  O  Lord,  the  night  of  death 
Shall  steal  upon  my  frame, 

Oh,  may  my  soul  in  heaven  awake, 
To  praise  the  Saviour's  name. 

For  'tis  for  His  dear  sake  alone, 
That  Thou  canst  justly  hear 

The  homage  which  frail  mortals  pay, 
When  they  to  Thee  draw  near. 


rma. 


DEAR  are  the  scenes  of  childhood's  days, 

Though  long  years  have  passed  them  by, 
When  to  our  minds  kind  memory  brings 

Our  own  first-loved  and  native  sky, 
Though  o'er  us  a  wild  deep  sadness  steals, 

As  we  dwell  on  early  joys, 
When  hills  and  glens  our  play-ground  formed, 

And  flowers  our  choicest  toys  ; 
And  when  on  the  green  mead's  grassy  plain 

We  sought  for  the  primrose  fair, 
And  flowery  cups  of  golden  hue, 

That  grow  spontaneous  there  ; 
When  our  young  hearts  beat  lightly  and  gay, 

Unchecked  by  sorrow  and  care, 
And  gayly  we  sported  and  sung, 

As  birds  that  float  in  the  air ; 
And  when  on  each  successive  morn 

We  in  the  school  house  gayly  met, 


POEMS.  39 


And  learned  from  books  and  teachers  kind 

Lessons  we  remember  yet : 
Or,  when  the  hours  for  school  were  o'er, 

We  met  on  the  verdant  lawn, 
And  merrily  joined  in  sportive  plays, 

Oft  cheered  by  the  hunter's  horn  ; 
And  when  winter  spread  its  snowy  garb 

So  beauteous  o'er  the  earth, 
Fairy  tales  we  told  where  glowing  coals 

Added  cheer  to  the  social  hearth. 
And  many  other  joys  are  known 

In  childhood's  golden  years, 
That  never,  oh  never,  grace  the  path 

Of  those  in  loftier  spheres. 
And  e'en  though  mingled  joy  and  sadness 

Fill  our  souls  while  we  recall 
Scenes  that  first  our  hearts  rejoiced  in, 

Still  remembered  be  they  all. 


I  LOVE  to  hear  the  wild,  wild  wind 
Come  marching  o'er  the  sea  ; 

For  oft,  when  I  am  lone  and  sad, 
It  brings  new  thoughts  to  me. 

I  love  to  hear  the  wild,  wild  wind 
Come  howling  through  the  trees 

A  stronger  charm  it  has  for  me 
Than  softer  summer  breeze. 


40  POEMS. 

I  love  to  hear  the  wild,  wild  wind 
Blend  with  the  dashing  rain ; 

Though  others  seem  to  think  it  drear, 
To  me  it  brings  no  pain. 

•       I  love  to  hea'r  the  wild,  wild  wind, 

When  all  around  me  sleep, 
For  then  my  heart  is  drawn  to  those 
Who  perish  on  the  deep. 


Vim  utort  tn  T&m  3.  f.  9. 

DEAR  Jean,  thy  sweet  and  gentle  voice 

Has  won  my  heart  to  thee ; 
Oh  may  I  hope  in  days  to  come, 

That  thou  my  friend  wilt  be. 

As  ivy  round  the  oak  doth  cling, 

So  may  our  hearts  entwine  ; 
Thus  by  the  genial  warmth  of  love, 

May  yield  some  fruits  divine. 

Then  say,  fair  girl,  shall  this  be  so  ? 

And  wilt  thou  be  my  friend  ? 
Oh  then  my  heart  shall  bound  for  joy, 

When  it  with  thine  shall  blend. 

Then  will  I  thank  my  God,  and  pray, 

That  in  affliction's  night, 
Thou  too  mayst  find  some  angel-form 

To  strew  thy  path  with  light. 


POEMS.  41 


Injft  at 


OH  say,  ye  winds,  that  softly  blow, 

What  tidings  do  ye  bear 
From  seas  whereon  my  brother  sails  ? 

Or  have  ye  not  been  there  ? 

Alas  !  ye  seem  to  whisper  low, 
We  bring  a  gentle  breeze  ; 

The  hoarser,  stronger  winds  belong 
To  far-off  stormy  seas. 

Then  say,  ye  stars  that  nightly  gaze 

In  silence  o'er  the  sea, 
Are  ye  with  no  commission  charged 

Of  brother's  love  to  me  ? 

Alas  !  ye  seem  to  answer,  No, 
And  dip  your  brilliant  light 

Far  in  in  the  deep  blue  inky  skies, 
And  gleaming  say,  good  night. 

But  thou,  night's  fair,  majestic  queen, 
That  gives  the  seaman  light, 

Hast  thou  no  news  from  distant  seas, 
Or  word  from  waters  bright  ? 

Alas  !  to  me  thy  mild  response 
Is  whispered  in  the  breeze, 

Though  I  am  known  in  every  land, 
I  bear  no  tales  of  seas. 
a* 


42  POEMS. 

But  what  sayst  thou,  great  king  of  day, 
When  dancing  o'er  the  wave, 

Didst  thou  no  gallant  vessel  spy, 
Manned  by  young  sailors  brave  ? 

She  was  a  noble,  gallant  craft, 
That  held  my  brother's  form  ; 

And  she  sped  o'er  the  boundless  main, 
As  lightning  through  the  storm. 

But  ah,  alas !  thy  steady  gaze 

Is  on  the  ocean's  breast, 
As  if  by  gesture  thou  wouldst  say, 

Here  in  the  deep  he  rests. 

And  now  to  me  the  sea-bird's  scream 

Is  wafted  o'er  the  surge  ; 
Oh,  I  will  join  with  her  and  sing 

His  melancholy  dirge. 

Oh,  fare  thee  well,  young  seaman  bold, 
For  thou  didst  nobly  stand, 

While  mighty  winds  the  billows  tossed, 
And  drove  thy  bark  from  land. 

But  oh,  at  length  a  mighty  wave 
Thy  manly  form  o'erthrew  ; 

And  now  thou  sleep'st  beneath  the  wave, 
Beside  thy  gallant  crew. 

Here  rest  ye,  oh  my  brother,  rest, 
Till  the  resurrection  morn  ; 

The  sea  shall  then  give  up  her  dead, 
That  to  her  depths  are  borne. 


POEMS.  43 


to  a 


ON      THE      LOSS      OF      A      CHILD. 

MOURN  not,  sister,  for  thine  infant, 

Whose  form  we've  laid  in  yonder  tomb  ; 
For  now  with  Christ,  in  Paradise, 

His  spirit  will  for  ever  bloom. 
There,  like  a  tender  flower  transplanted, 

His  infant  beauty  shall  increase 
In  that  unchanging  spring  above, 

Where  all  is  happiness  and  peace. 

Mourn  not,  sister,  oh,  so  deeply, 

But  to  thy  Maker's  will  submit, 
Who  in  love  doth  now  correct  thee, 

And  who  will  kindly  bless  thee  yet. 
Let  the  Saviour's  words  support  thee, 

In  this  sad  and  trying  hour  ; 
Since  to  realms  of  life  and  glory, 

He  has  called  thy  cherished  flower. 

Mourn  not,  sister  ;  God  is  gracious  ; 

He  doth  thy  deep  anguish  know  ; 
In  His  mercy,  He'll  support  thee, 

If  to  Him  thou'lt  trusting  go. 
Oh,  from  thy  sadness  then  awake  thee, 

And  with  Israel's  Psalmist  trust  ; 
Thou  mayst  meet  thy  sainted  infant, 

In  yon  bright  regions  of  the  just. 


44  POEMS. 


OH  God  !  in  mercy  lend 

To  me  Thy  kind  and  gracious  ear, 
While  I  pour  out  my  soul  to  Thee, 

In  fervent,  humble  prayer. 

Do  Thou  Thy  Spirit  send, 

And  melt  this  stony  heart  of  mine  ; 
For  constantly  temptation  calls 

My  thoughts  from  things  divine. 

E'en  now  the  tempter  comes, 

While  here  before  thy  throne  I  bow ; 
And  he  is  strong  in  power,  Oh  God, — 

But  stronger,  Lord,  art  Thou. 

Therefore,  to  Thee  I  cry, 

That  Thou  mayst  graciously  impart 
Thine  all-sufficient  aid  to  me, 

Against  the  tyrant's  art. 

For  of  myself,  I  am 

A  poor,  unworthy,  helpless  thing ; 
By  nature  to  all  evil  prone, 

And  more  by  practising. 

Oh,  then,  increase  my  faith, 

And  all  my  want  of  strength  supply  ; 
And  from  me  take  my  load  of  guilt, 

While  prostrate  here  I  lie. 


POEMS.  45 

Grant  this,  for  Jesus'  sake, 

Thy  well-beloved,  only  Son  ; 
Whom  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  Thee, 

We  worship,  Three  in  One. 


Km*  totefei  to  t|p  to.  J&t. 


WHO   WENT     AS     A     BAPTIST    MISSIONARY    TO    SAN    FRANCISCO, 
IN    CALIFORNIA. 


Go,  thou  herald  of  Salvation, 

A  wider  field  is  open  now 
For  thee  to  spread  Jehovah's  name, 

Where  men  to  superstition  bow. 

E'en  though,  alas  !   we  sorrow  much, 
With  thee  to  take  the  parting  hand, 

And  see  thee  leave  thy  friends  and  home, 
To  toil  in  a  strange  and  distant  land. 

But  we  our  prayers  in  faith  will  join, 
To  thy  Great  Master,  Christ,  our  Lord, 

That  He  may  crown  with  much  success 
Thy  holy  services  abroad. 

Then  go,  ambassador  of  Christ, 
To  regions  void  of  Gospel  light, 

And  spread  the  tidings  of  great  joy, 

Which  angels  brought  to  earth  by  night. 


46  POEMS. 

Ah  yes,  to  San  Francisco's  sons, 
Proclaim  the  Saviour's  hallowed  name, 

Who  left  His  Father's  throne  on  high, 
And  man's  redeeming  Lord  became. 

Oh  tell  them  of  His  humble  birth, 
His  life,  His  death,  His  sufferings ; 

And  how  He  triumphed  o'er  the  grave, 
And  proved  himself  the  King  of  kings. 

Now,  soldier  of  the  cross,  adieu  ; 

We  sigh  to  breathe  the  parting  knell ; 
But  Christ,  our  Saviour,  bids  thee  go 

On  mission  blest; — farewell,  farewell. 


mt| 


DEAR  cousin,  though  thou  our  circle  leav'st, 

In  strangers'  halls  to  dwell, 
Yet  I  will  love  thy  memory  still, 

And  ever  guard  it  well. 

As  we  around  our  frugal  board 

In  thankfulness  repair, 
And  see  thy  lone  vacant  seat,  I'll  sigh, 

And  wish  that  thou  wert  there. 

And  when  deep  sadness  o'er  me  steals, 

As  once  thou  sawst  it  did, 
I'll  call  to  mind  thy  kind-toned  voice, 

That  in  my  heart  I've  hid. 


POEMS.  47 


And  when  before  the  heavenly  shrine 

I  kneel  to  offer  prayer, 
For  my  own  dear  brother  fondly  loved, 

Thy  name  with  his  I'll  bear. 

And  now  in  return  I  ask  of  thee, 

That  thou  wilt  not  forget 
The  cousin  who  oft  thy  playmate  was, 

When  we  were  little  yet. 

And  since  in  riper  age  we've  met, 

So  soon  to  part  again, 
Loved,  cherished  still  thy  name  shall  be, 

As  all  my  life  it's  been. 

And  now  with  regret  I  say  farewell, 
And  hope  that  thou  mayst  find, 

Through  all  the  various  scenes  of  life, 
Friends  affectionate  and  kind. 


'Tis  sad,  fair  girl,  to  breathe 
With  thee  a  parting  knell, 

And  from  our  circle  lose 
A  form  we've  loved  so  well. 

But  change  informs  us  now 
Thy  girlish  years  are  o'er, 

And  we,  alas  !  must  part, 
Perhaps  to  meet  no  more. 


48  POEMS. 

But  thou  hast  well  improved 
Youth's  swiftly  gliding  hours, 

As  bees  the  honey  sip 

In  sunshine  from  the  flowers. 

And  now  an  orange  wreath 
Encircles  thy  fair  brow, 

And  we  at  the  altar  wait 
To  hear  the  bridal  vow. 

Oh  may  conjugal  bliss 

Thy  path  with  roses  strew, 

And  may  thy  chosen  star 
Shine  ever  bright  and  true ; 

And  pure  affection  yield 
Its  sweetest  joys  to  thee, 

And  all  the  hours  of  life 
Glide  on  in  harmony. 

May  happiness  increase 
With  each  returning  day, 

And  friendship's  holy  star, 
Light,  cheer  thee  on  thy  way. 

But  ere  we  say  farewell, 
Oh,  hear  our  last  request : 

Still  in  thy  heart  give  place 
To  us,  thy  bridal  guest. 


POEMS  .  49 


THE  loss,  dear  friends,  that  ye  sustain, 
Is  one  that  wears  the  heart ; 

But  God,  who  thus  afflicts  you  now, 
New  blessings  can  impart. 

Since  'twas  from  His  Almighty  hand 
Your  fondly  loved  one  came, 

Who  now  has  joined  the  saints  above, 
All  free  from  sin  and  shame. 

And  though  her  loss  ye  deeply  mourn, 

Oh,  strive  with  Job  to  say, 
Thrice  blessed  be  the  mighty  God 

Who  gives  and  takes  away. 

Who  in  His  wisdom  cannot  err, 
Though  we  may  not  perceive 

The  purpose  which  He  has  in  view, 
When  He  doth  us  bereave. 

Oh,  then  to  Him  be  reconciled, 

Who  ever  acts  in  love, 
And  He  will  make  your  grief 

A  future  blessing  prove. 

And  why,  oh  why,  should  ye  repine, 

That  one  ye  loved  so  well 
Is  early  called  from  this  sad  world, 

In  Paradise  to  dwell  ? 


50  POEMS. 

For,  oh  !  her  gentle  spirit  now 
Has  reached  that  blessed  abode 

Where  holy  saints  with  angels  join 
Their  praises  of  our  God. 

And  then,  amid  that  spirit-band, 
She  will  raise  her  song  of  praise 

To  Him  who  sits  upon  the  throne, 
Through  everlasting  days. 


SWEET  are  the  joys  which  friendship  yields. 

When  bound  by  its  golden  chain, 
Are  faithful,  pure,  congenial  hearts, 

Seeking  each  the  other's  gain. 

When  adverse  fortune  clouds  our  path, 

As  gathering  storm  the  sky, 
If  but  the  voice  of  friendship  cheers, 

Calmly  see  the  gloom  pass  by. 

Or  when  some  unexpected  joy 
Comes  like  the  summer  shower, 

That  such  returning  beauty  gives 
To  every  drooping  flower. 

E'en  then  'tis  friendship  that  completes 
The  new  joy  that  fills  the  heart, 

For  that  is  scarcely  happiness 
In  which  only  one  has  part. 


POEMS.  51 


Oh,  friendship !  'tis  an  holy  tie 
Connecting  kindred  souls, 

A  brilliant  star  that  sheds  its  light 
While  life  its  dark  dream  unfolds. 

Oh  !  may  that  tie  all  hearts  unite 
In  pure  love  and  sympathy, 

That  bright  star  each  traveller  guide 
Through  the  shades  of  misery. 


u 


OH,  FAREWELL,  brother !  Thou  art  passing 

From  a  circle  thou  hast  blessed, 
To  that  bright  world  where  saints  are  waiting 

To  receive  thee  as  their  guest. 
Angels  now  are  hovering  round  thee, 

To  conduct  thy  spirit  there, 
When  death  shall  of  thy  pain  relieve  thee, 

Which  thou  dost  with  patience  bear. 

Oh,  farewell,  brother  !  Thou  art  dearer 

Than  aught  else  our  bosoms  know, 
Save  our  kind  father  and  our  mother, 

Who  with  us  lament  thee  now. 
Oh  !  if  a  while  thou  couldst  but  linger. 

To  relieve  its  stricken  heart 
Of  the  deep  grief  that  now  pervades  them, 

As  they  see  thy  strength  depart. 


52  POEMS. 

Oh,  farewell,  brother !     Christ  is  calling 

In  a  voice  that  charms  thine  ear, 
And  to  Him  is  thy  spirit  soaring, 

Though  we  strive  to  keep  it  here. 
And  now  from  us  fades  that  bright  pure  light 

That  marked  thy  miU;  gentle  eye, 
And  hushed  in  death  is  thy  kind,  sweet  voice, 

Full  of  loving  sympathy. 

Oh,  farewell,  brother !     Thou  hast  passed 

Through  death's  dark  and  gloomy  vale ; 
Thy  cares  and  sorrows  now  are  ended, 

Though  thy  loss  we  deeply  wail ; 
For  we  shall  no  more  thy  footsteps  hear, 

And  no  more  behold  thy  smile, 
No  more  receive  thy  fond  embrace, 

Oh !  no  more  thy  hours  beguile. 

But,  farewell,  brother !     We  resign  thee 

To  our  heavenly  Father's  care  ; 
He  in  glory  will  receive  thee — 

Oh !  may  we  all  meet  there. 
Still  in  our  memories  thou  shalt  dwell, 

Though  thy  form  no  more  we  see, 
And  the  deep  love  which  thou  hast  borne  us 

Shall  a  source  of  comfort  be. 


POEMS.  53 


mitjj  /rank 


SAY,  say  not  our  friendship  is  o'er, 

E'en  though  we  are  called  to  part ; 
But  grant  me  the  boon  I  desire, 

Still  fondly  to  dwell  in  each  heart. 
Bright,  bright  in  my  memory  rise 

The  hours  I  have  passed  with  you, 
And  warmly  I'll  cherish  them  yet, 

Long  after  we  have  bidden  adieu. 
Still,  still,  in  my  heart  ye  shall  live, 

Though  distance  may  sever  us  far, 
To  cheer  my  sad  spirit  each  day, 

Your  kindness  shall  rise  as  a  star. 
Yes,  yes,  I  will  cherish  for  you 

Pure  gratitude,  mingled  with  love, 
And  pray  your  devotion  to  me 

May  please  the  Great  Spirit  above. 
Swift,  swift  have  the  days  fled  away, 

Since  our  hearts  in  friendship  were  twined  ; 
Unchanged  may  the  wreath  still  remain, 

That  firmly  our  spirits  now  bind. 
Deep,  deep  is  the  sadness  that  steals 

O'er  my  heart  while  breathing  this  knell 
That  parts  me  from  you,  dearest  friends, 

And  bids  me  to  say,  fare  ye  well. 


I 


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